Lucky Number Seven
by monkeygirl77
Summary: With the release of the Darkness, they need the help of the Archangels to seal Her away again, all seven of them. Four down and three to go. Easier said then done.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: So I know in Supernatural canon there is only four Archangels, but in true lore there's seven of them, what would happen if there was seven Archangels instead of Fours. In this, Gabriel isn't the only one who split from Heaven, but was the first to disappear, something of which he is resented for. At the release of the Darkness, who has no redemption in this fic, and plays a rather minimal role (along with the Winchesters and Castiel cause I just don't like them), their Father says they need the help of all seven archangels and sends His sons in search of their younger siblings. **

**This is my take on the vengeful teenage archangels living their best lives.**

**…**

Bringing Gabriel back hadn't been nearly as hard as it had been to bring Raphael back, one was in the Empty with His Brother, the other was scattered across the cosmos, their deaths couldn't have been more different. Both hunters watched Him in fascination as He gathered the pieces of His third born son to him, a ball of light slowly forming in His hands amidst complicated hand gestures, hissing softly with power building up in the small compact form.

"He's coming now, shield your eyes!"

The Winchester brothers closed their eyes just as the room filled with the smell of ozone, a deafening bang echoed in the room as a bolt of lightning struck one of the rods and then another when the other was struck in similar fashion, blue light danced behind their closed eyelids. They waited until the glow dimmed, the heat from the raw electricity faded, and chanced a peek at the imposing figure.

He stood between the two lightning rods, volts of electricity jumped from his form to the two robs beside him, bright blue eyes turned from the one who had brought him back, over to them. The surge seemed to grow in intensity as he stared at them, before he took a step forward, Dean Winchester was quick to jump forward and fire a shot, but it did him no good. The other caught the bullet in their hand, closing it in an illuminated fist, and let the melted remanence of the bullet to flow between their fingers to the floor below.

His advance continuing.

Sam looked over the oncoming archangels shoulder. "Uhh, Chuck, you want to call your son off?"

"Right, right." He turned to face the advancing Archangel and called out to him. "Raphael, that's enough, back away from them."

The advancement came to a sudden halt, bright blue eyes turning to peer over his shoulder, his Father nodded in affirmation.

"Calm yourself."

…

"If we're going to stand a chance against your Aunt," He eyed each one of His oldest Archangels, "we're going to need the help of your brothers and sister." The four archangels exchanged looks at the thought of them, even Castiel sat up straighter, the younger archangels hadn't been seen since the onset of the war in Heaven.

Michael raised his eyebrow. "We haven't heard from them since their disappearance. How are we to know if they even still live?"

"I would know if they're dead, and I can say for fact that they are not, but they have hidden themselves from me too." He narrowed His eyes slightly. "I can sense them, but barely, they clearly have no intention of being found."

"It has been some time since we've last seen them." Raphael looked concerned. "I do hope they're alright."

He smiled at His son's concern for his younger siblings. "I am sure that your younger siblings are fine. Their tempers the only inhibition we might run into. I cannot imagine they left their home for no reason."

Sam Winchester raised his hand. "I thought there was only four archangels?"

He shook His head. "There are seven in total. The younger three are just less known then their older brothers. But just as necessary as they are in this particular fight." He turned back to His sons. "Your sister is closest, I can feel her more then I can your brothers, she is in Vegas."

Lucifer tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing. "What would she be doing in Vegas?"

"I can think of a few things, we need her, pick amongst yourselves who will go retrieve her."

…

She laughed as she sat on the bar top, legs crossed loosely, leaning back on her right hand. The tattoo of a dolphin curled around her inner arm, silver rings glinting in the dark light of the nightclub she currently called her home, if only for the night. A short skirt, silver sequins shined in the dark light, black fishnet tights tucked into silver doc martins. A tight revealing tube top curled around her chest, accentuating certain features more then others, pulled up to reveal her toned belly to onlookers. Long dark hair done in a tight pony tail, glitter sparkled like stars from within her hair, and it waved about as she bobbed to the music.

She took a sip of her drink, cat calling to the one on the stage taking his shirt off and gestured for the bartender to give her a refill.

"Asariel."

Her eyes turned immediately to the one who called her by that name, alarm filling her that someone who know what she truly was had managed to track her down, taking in the approaching form with great scrutiny. They walked with a certain regality about them, an air of respect that was demanded swirled around him with every step, the steps made with a certain knowledge, as though every placement was calculated.

Like a warrior.

With that knowledge in mind, she gave an irritated sigh, raising a hand to stay the bartender and finished her half empty cup with one gulp.

Asariel jumped down from the bar top, grabbed her silver jacket by the collar, and passed him as he continued to approach. She knew that he would turn to follow as she walked passed, heading for the door to The Strip outside, her night ruined at his uninvited appearance. She squinted as she stepped out into the bright lights of The Strip, turning to walk down the sparse lane, pulling her jacket on over her shoulders.

The door to the night club was caught and she knew that they stepped out after her.

"Asariel, stop."

Despite her true desire, she heaved a sigh and came to a grinding halt, throwing her hands up as she turned to glare at her follower.

"What do _you _want?"

He came to a stop in front of her, looking her form over with great scrutiny, face scrunching up in distaste. "What are you _wearing_?"

"Clothes." She gave him a dull glare. "I'm wearing clothes."

"Those hardly constitute as clothing." He shrugged off his own jacket. "I can see _more _of you then I _cannot_."

As he turned the jacket in his hands, she huffed angrily and shoved him harshly in the chest, it came as a surprise and forced him back a few paces. "No!" she shook her head, her ponytail whipping around as she did. "You don't get to just _show up _and act like your my _brother _again!"

"Asariel."

She shook her head firmly, glaring at him with as much heat as she could muster. "_What _do you _want_, Michael?"

"Can I not want to see my baby sister?"

"You've never come looking before." She cut him off. "So why _now_?"

He took a step forward. "We need your help."

Laughing she poked him harshly in the chest. "Helping you is the _last _thing I'd ever do." She poked him once more and turned to walk off. "I don't know what's happened, and I don't care to, but whatever it is, I hope it kicks your ass."

"I cannot let you walk off." He gestured to her, she was sure he did, though her back was to him. "Especially while wearing _that_."

"Do me a favor," she called over her shoulder throwing her hand up to him. "And fuck off, Michael."

"I cannot just let you go."

"That's what you're going to do though." She nearly turned the corner. "I'll never help you. And we'll never see each other again. Double win for me."

She yelped when arms wrapped around her middle, lifting her from her feet, and kicked out wildly. "No!"

…

They appeared amidst a grand struggle. Michael struggling to keep his hold on the young lady he had in his arms and the young lady struggling to free herself all in the same moment. The two hunters shot around at the noise they caused with their sudden appearance. The three remaining archangels turned to look up at them in turn.

Their struggle was a fierce one.

She dug her nails as fiercely as she could into his skin, tearing it open, drawing blood to the surface. Kicking out wildly in an attempt to slip from his grip. It was only after her nails dug particularly too deep that he finally let her go.

She spun around with a fierce temper, eyes a blaze, and jaw set.

"Asariel?"

Her eyes flit from the oldest archangel before her to the three gathering behind him, and sneered in anger, she adjusted her top and fixed her ponytail.

"This is just great." She gestured to each of them. "We have a traitor," she waved at Lucifer. "A heartless stony Healer," she gestured to Raphael. "And a cowardly Messenger," she finished with a bitter laugh. Her eyes darted to the Winchester brothers and Castiel. "And lets not forget the two _mudmonkey's _and their _pet_."

"Asariel," her eyes darted back to the Healer as he spoke. "Are you alright?"

"I'm _great_." She snapped at him. "No thanks to you." Smirking when he ducked in shame.

They deserved to feel bad.

"Asariel, as you know—" she threw a heated glare in Castiel's direction. "Who are _you _to address _me_?"

"Hey!" Dean Winchester attempted to come to his friends rescue. "He's been doin a lot more then you have!"

"Yea, doing a lot more _damage._" She gave an exaggerated applause to the seraph. "_Good job!_"

"The Darkness is free, Asariel."

"I don't give a _damn_." She spun around to glare at the Morningstar. His arms had crossed, raising his eyebrow when she spun to him, hair whipping around behind her. "Let Her do what She wants. I don't care."

He stared at her closely. "Yes, you do." She narrowed her eyes at him. "You've got a good heart."

She laughed slightly. "For _whom_? The family that abandoned me? The older brothers who turned their backs on me? No." she pressed a hand to her chest. "I care about me. I'll fight for me. I'll look out for _me_." Asariel raised her hand to snap her fingers. "I'm out."

"You can't leave." Michael's voice came from behind her, just by his tone, she knew he'd crossed his arms. "I've dampened your grace."

Anger filled her again, spinning to glare at him. "You can't _do _that!"

He raised an eyebrow. "I believe I already did." Uncrossing his arms, he walked forward slowly, humming in warning when her fingers clenched into fists. "You will stay here, I cannot make you help us, but I can make you stay." Eyeing her over again, he nodded at her in affirmation, meeting her angered eyes once more. "You will wash this makeup off your face and change into something more appropriate."

"I'm not a fledgling anymore! You stopped being my brother the moment you decided _war_ was more important then _me_!" She met his gaze head on. "I don't have to listen to you!"

"That may be." He leaned over her. "But, I'm still your _elder_, so that means you _do_."

"You son of a—" Michael snapped his fingers when she reeled back in preparation to strike him with her fist and she disappeared. He turned to meet the others concerned gazes. "She is fine. I merely escorted her to a room." He nodded once. "I will check on her in a bit. A bit of time should help her cool down."

The Messenger nodded. "You think she'll help us?"

Michael thought a moment, nodding in affirmation after he thought on it. "I can get her to help us."

…

Asariel sat on the edge of the bed, resting her head on both her palms, the anger had faded a few minutes after she had appeared in this room and found that she couldn't open the door. Her boots sat before the door, she'd thrown them at it when she couldn't get it to open, cursing her brother as thoroughly as she could.

Now she was just upset, being confined to this room made her feel as though she was grounded again, something she hadn't been for quite some time, she'd been living by her own rules for quite some time now, and didn't want to follow the rules of someone who had turned away from her.

She remembered that day as though it had happened just before this one. Her seeking her older brother out and finding him in the War Room, asking him to come to the Garden with her, it had been so long since they'd spent time together. And then he turned on her.

The young archangel sniffled, rubbing her hand under her nose, and continued watching her toe circle around the floor under her.

There was a soft knock to the door, and she called out softly for whoever had come for her to enter.

"I thought I told you to wash and change."

She sniffed again, staring down at the floor. "I don't have to listen to you."

"My, my, this is quite the difference from the site we beheld in the Library."

Asariel didn't look up at him but did hold up one of her hands in a particular gesture, warm fingers curled around her hand and this time she didn't struggle to pull it back. Her vision is filled with his feet, and his knees pop softly as he kneels before her, lifting her head up with a gentle finger under her chin.

Their eyes met and this time there was no anger, no fight, just sad violet eyes staring into his.

"Asa, we used to be so close, and I pushed you away."

"You _changed_. You weren't my _big brother _anymore."

He nodded softly. "It was like I had been overcome by a disease." He bent forward. "I wasn't myself." And squeezed the fingers he still held in his grasp. "But I'm back now."

"You'll go away again."

"Not this time." He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. "I'm here to stay. I should never have left you. You clearly need someone to be keeping an eye on you." The older archangel smiled, it brought a small one to her lips, and stood back up, pulling her up with him.

"I can take care of myself, Micha."

"I highly doubt that." He held her out slightly, her arm lifting as he tugged her hand up that was still securely in his grasp. "Just look at you," he poked a finger up under her arm and she bit back a small giggle, turning slightly in his hold. "Your top barely has you concealed." He pressed his hand to her belly. "My entire hand fits on your belly without any disturbance to your top." The archangel dug his fingers lightly into her midsection and she jolted lightly in his grasp. "And I think your skirt remains without needing said." He leaned down to squeeze her midthigh. "If I can touch you here without any inhibition then it is too short."

"Micha stop!"

He smiled down at her. "I don't think I will, baby sister." And lifted her easily from her feet. She laughed softly, curling her legs around his waist, as he crossed his arms under her. "We have so much to catch up on. You've grown since I've last seen you." She curled his arms around his neck and hugged herself close to him. He turned slightly and kissed the undercurve of her cheek, burrowing into her neck, to return the hug as best as he could given his holding her up.

"Micha!" She shrieked brightly, despite her attempt to stop it, scrunching up her shoulder quickly at the feeling of him nibbling on her neck. "Micha stop!" he ignored her though, digging in just a bit more, pressing his lips under her ear. She tilted her head away from his as best as she could manage but he followed her every time. "Micha! Stop it!" she hit his shoulder lightly with her fist.

He shook his head, and she shrieked again, feeling his arms come up to curl around her lower back and cradle the back of her head, as he leaned forward and laid them both on the bed.

"I can't, baby sister, I've got much time to catch up on."

She shrieked, arching her back, when ten fingers dug into her belly. "Let me show you why you shouldn't wear these shirts." Her laughter increased when he buried his face into her belly with his fingers. She buried her fingers in his hair and tugged. "It's good to see that somethings don't change."

**…**

**So whatcha think? You wanna meet the others? See this Archangel Fam at it's finest? Who are the other two Archangels? Can you guess? LOL! **


	2. Chapter 2

"I need a fucking drink."

Was her greeting to the world when she made her reappearance the following morning. Long dark hair done up in a sloppy un a top her head, wearing a loose fitting green t-shirt and a pair of sweat pants with one leg pulled up under her right knee, she ignored her company as she made her way to the fridge and pulled it open to examine its contents.

"Well, good morning to you too sweetheart."

She glared at the hunter from over her shoulder. "Did I tell you that you could talk to me, monkey?" she gave a quick shake of her head. "I didn't. So shut your fucking mouth."

Asariel turned away from him, turning back to the fridge, frowning at the lack of options. "I wish I had some fucking vodka." She picked up a bottle of beer and stared at it with distaste. "Instead of this junk."

"Are you even old enough to drink?" Dean Winchester smirked at her as he came up behind her to lift the bottle of beer from her hand. "You look like you're, what, fifteen years old."

"You know, my brother, my _best friend, _is the Archangel of Death." She turned, glaring at him, her eyes as sharp as daggers, and she snatched the bottle back. "You think you can convince _him _to let your _beloved _Sammy come back when he dies again?" Asariel popped the cap with her thumb, an abuse of archangel strength at it's finest, and took a big swig of the drink within the bottle. "He doesn't find you two _nearly _as amusing as old man Death did."

"Are you threatening my brother?" The hunter leaned forward, in an attempt to intimidate her, and she smiled at his attempt of intimidation. She was a fucking _archangel_. This mudmonkey had nothing on intimidation. "Because nobody threatens my brother."

Asariel leaned forward, finishing off her stolen bottle of beer, and thrust it out into his chest. "Am I?"

"I'll ask you _one _more time." Dean reached for the gun he had in the hem of his jeans. "Are you _threatening _my brother?"

She saw the other being approaching from over his shoulder and smiled up at the mudmonkey.

"Dean, Asariel, is everything alright?"

Michael stood behind them, in the doorway of the kitchen, looking over at them with concern.

Asariel smiled up at the hunter. "Yep."

…

They all gathered in the library after breakfast, everyone but Chuck, He was off doing something of His own, doing His own tracking of His Sister. Their priority was getting their younger archangels back, before they stood any chance on getting their Aunt recaptured, and they had one down, who could lead them to the other two.

Michael sat at the head of the table, in Chuck's place, as was his right.

To his left sat Lucifer, as his second in command in Heaven's army, it was his right.

On his right sat Raphael, as the Healer, he was just as important as Lucifer was to his command.

And on Raphael's other side sat Gabriel, him and the Healer worked hand in hand, it was his job to ensure everyone knew what their orders were.

On Lucifer's other side sat the two hunters, and their hunter friend stood behind them, surveying them all.

Asariel thought it was because he thought he could stand a chance against any of them.

She sat on the table, because she could, in front of Michael. Her socked feet resting lightly on his thighs, leaning back on her hands, he rested his arms up around her legs and looked out at the others from around her side.

"Asa, do you know where your brothers are?"

The younger archangel shrugged, staring up at the ceiling absently, watching a fly circle around the light fixture above their heads. Her blonde brother snorted to her left, and her dark haired brother sighed to her right, the third didn't make any sounds.

Michael pinched her leg. "Asa, you were asked a question."

"So, what if I do?" She finally looked down to them, sparing them each a glance, before resting back on the oldest. "Why would I ever _tell _you?"

"Please, Asariel." Their younger sister looked over to the Healer. "Please, where is Azrael?" He leaned forward against the table, looking up at her imploringly. "Is he safe, at least?"

Asariel stared at her older brother for a long moment, internally debating on whether or not she should share her knowledge and saw nothing but sincerity in his features.

Heaving a sigh, she nodded lazily, and tilted her head back to return to watching the fly circle around the light fixture again.

"Az is in the Ancient City with Anubis."

…

**AN: So, a bit of an intro to our next chapter! **

**Who's going to be sent to get their younger sibling this time?**


	3. Chapter 3

Stepping into the Ancient City after so long was like returning to a home he hadn't known he'd missed. The sights were heartachingly familiar, the scents overwhelming in a welcomed way, and the familiar faces a sight for sore eyes.

It had been a ridiculous question as to his whereabouts, their younger brother had been the best of friends with the Egyptian god of death for as long as they could remember, it was no mystery that he would retreat to his temple in the wake of things. His oldest friend would surely take him in, in his time of need, and those of the temple would protect the angel just as much as they would serve for their deity.

He took in the sights once again, soaking them in as he passed, for what felt like the first time in a millennium. Others turned to look at him as he passed, staring at him as he walks down the lane, and turning to whisper to their companions once he was out of earshot.

The temple was a sight for sore eyes, one that he hadn't been in for such a long time, it's inhabitants a distant memory. The two guards at the entrance stopped him in his tracks, crossing their spears together, blocking his path for entering. He turned to look between the two of them, there had been a time when they wouldn't have dared to impede his entrance, but that time had come and passed. They stared straight ahead, paying him no mind, as they dared stand against him.

"Adofo." He turned to one and then to the other. "Bomani."

"Our god as commanded that none be granted entrance."

He tilted his head slightly. "Will you allow me entrance?"

Bomani spared him a glance at long last. "You are one of those who is not granted entrance." And turned back to gaze ahead once more. "You will stay outside of the walls."

Normally, he would talk this through, he had been absent for some time, sure, but he had never wronged any within the temple. He had always treated them with respect, as though they were a part of his family, just as he was a part of theirs. But they did not have that time to do such things, they needed Azrael with a quickness that did not allow for personal conversation, it would have to wait until another day.

So, he stepped forward, fingers curling tightly around his staff, and left the guard no choice but to look up at him. Intimidation was not his typical way of life, but all these come with a price, and this was his.

Bomani looked back up at him, the emotion of alarm shining in his eyes, though he concealed it well. He lowered his head slightly to look more so into his eyes.

"You _will _allow me entrance."

The guard swallowed, eyes darting to the staff clutched in his hand, and then back to his gaze. "Or what?"

"Do you _desire _to find out?"

Bomani swallowed again, averting his eyes, and nodded in one quick jerk of a nod. He reached out and shoved Adofo's arm, his partner looked over in surprise, and pulled his spear away in kind to Bomani pulling his back.

He nodded in appreciation. "Thank you, Bomani."

…

"It has been some time since an angel has been seen in my temple." The Egyptian deity was lounging in his throne, legs spread open, one arm raised and the other outstretched. "Especially one such as yourself." His other arm dropped forward. "What do you want?"

He raised his chin at the disrespect, his fingers tightening around his staff, but moved passed it. He had been sent to retrieve their younger brother, he did not have the time to address these attitudes, and there was part of him that knew it was well deserved.

There was a smile of greeting. "Hello, Anubis." It was not returned. "I need Azrael and I am to hear that he resides here."

"That's a bold assumption." The young deity leans forward. "Have you any proof?"

The archangel nodded. "I can feel his presence within these walls. I know he is here. Tell me where he is."

"Wait." The young god raised a hand. "Did you….Did you just _tell _me what to do?" Anubis shakes his head, leaning back in his throne again, fiddling with the fingers of his right hand. "You lost your say when you _disappeared _for _three thousand years_." He waved a hand over his head. "If you want him so badly, then you will find him yourself, I will not help you."

It had indeed been some time since he had stepped foot within this temple, and though he had a very vague memory of the layout of the grand place, the temple itself was built like a catacomb. One could get lost within these halls if they were not sure footed in where they were going.

"You will lead me."

"Raphael." Anubis was harsh, hatred bleeding into the pronunciation of his name, a golden hue coming over his eyes. "I will do nothing to aid you in your quest. I would first send you wandering before I gave an inkling of my help."

"Anubis," the Healer looked down a moment in shame. "The damage I have wrought to our relationship is extensive, and I have no right to ask for your forgiveness—"

"Though, it sounds as if you are about to."

He continued on as though he hadn't been interrupted. "But the end is coming. The Darkness, I know you know what that is, has been released upon the world again. If left unattended, it will devour everything, would you put your people at risk for mere vendetta."

Anubis finally stood, he'd grown since they had last been together, they were now very nearly the same height. He'd filled out more, built strong and lean, easily able to deceive. "How dare you use the protection of my people against me." He descended the steps that led up to his throne, coming to stand before him, until they were face to face. "But you are right, I would not be so selfish as to turn my back on those who entrust themselves to me, I am not you." It was meant to be a low blow and it was received as one. The Egyptian gives a quick jerk of a nod. "I will take you to him."

He turns, expecting him to follow after him, and the Healer does after a moment. Raphael is not sure what to say to the charge who had entrusted himself to him, who had allowed him to witness a softer side, a more vulnerable side, that few others were privileged to bare witness to. He had abandoned him some three thousand years ago, ghosted him in every way there was to ghost a person, the bitterness was deep in his being for him now. He had earned such distaste, such hatred, and there was no words to speak to begin to piece together the mess that was their broken relationship.

"Anubis—"

"Save your words, Archangel." Golden eyes glare at him over the Egyptians shoulder for a moment. "What was once between us is no more and that is by your hand alone." He turned back around, looking ahead as he led him through the maze that was his temple. "I will take you to your brother and then you will leave." They turned a corner that led out into the lush atrium. "You are not welcome here anymore."

It pained him, deep within, despite the knowledge that there was nothing less deserved for his transgressions. To know that their relationship was so crumbled that the other side wanted nothing to do with reconciliation, it was a bitter irony, he had abandoned him, and now the young godling was returning his favor.

Raphael could do nothing but nod, swallowing that lump that formed in his throat, watching attentively as the young deity stopped before the green grass and gestured forward with his hand. "He is there." Anubis turned to look at him. "You have until sunset before my guards will escort you out." He nodded again, watching silently as the Egyptian gave a single nod in affirmation and stepped forward, leaving him there to watch him walk away. It took him a moment to compose himself, rubbing a hand under his left eye, and he took a deep breath as he turned for the silver haired angel standing just a short pace away.

He was throwing a ball, one he had surely pilfered from Anubis, for his hounds to chase. He had grown too, since their last meeting, not nearly as tall as Anubis was, but fuller. He strength was evident, he was lean, and his hair had grown longer.

"Azrael."

His shoulders stiffened at the call of his name, fingers curling tightly around the ball in his hand, and silver eyes peered at him quickly from over his shoulder.

"What do you want?"

Raphael tried to familial kindness. "Can an older brother not want to see his younger?"

"I've been here for nearly three thousand years and, yet, you've never come in all that time." His eyes were piercing. "So, what do you _really _want?"

Their relationship was just as shattered as his was with the Egyptian, he had really messed up, he had lost more then himself in all that time.

"The Darkness. She's back." He stepped forward. "She is going to devour all of Father's creations."

"Then it is a good thing my creator is Death." Azrael turned back to his hounds, winding his arm back, and throws the ball for them. They chase after it excitedly. "He has never wronged Aunt. She will devour this world and I will move onto the next."

"You would be all alone, Azrael, would you really want that?"

"I've been on my own for six thousand years, Raphael." Again, he looked over his shoulder at him. "What's another six thousand going to do." Dante dropped the ball at his feet, and he bent to pick it up, winding his arm back again. "Father will grow lonely again and create another version of you."

"You would let all of creation suffer for my transgression."

"_Yes_." He turns this time. His hounds forget the ball at his change of stance, stalking forward at his heels, tracking him as though he was some wayward soul to be preyed upon. "What has _creation _ever done for me?" he clutches his hands into fists. "It's taken my _family_ from me." His anger is palpable. "It's taken my _home_ from me." He comes to stand directly in front of him, nearly chest to chest, eye to eye. "So, _yes_, I _would_ sit back and watch Her devour it all. And then, then, I would move on."

"You don't mean that." The Healer shakes his head. "You are too kind for that."

"How would _you _know," he spits out, _"brother."_

"She would devour your greatest friend, and no matter how angry you may be at us, you would never allow that to happen."

Azrael narrows his eyes. "Are you using _Anubis _as your way to sway me?" His hounds growled dangerously at his sides. Sighing deeply, he let it go in a huff, averting his eyes. "I would willingly sit back and watch Her devour you all, but you are right, I would be lost without Anubis." Silver eyes turned back to his. "I will come. I will not aid you for the family that abandoned me. But, I will support you for the one that took me in."


	4. Chapter 4

The appearance of Azrael in the bunker surprised them all. Not so much at his being there, but at his willingness, and there was a distinct hope that there would be forgiveness afoot. Until it came down to the fact that the angel of death refused to speak to them.

Him and Asariel exchanged glances, his sister sitting on the edge of the table, kicking her feet back and forth.

"So, they got you to crack, like a little bitch."

She flipped him her finger. "I'm not dealing with their shit all on my own."

"Touche." He reached out and they bumped fists. Azrael took note of the oldest hunters glare right away, returning it with the dullest glance he could muster, he was about as intimidating as a fly. "You leave my brother alone."

Azrael tilted his head. "I hardly care about what happens to your or your brother." He leaned against the table next to his sister. Asariel rests her head against his shoulder. "I am only here for my friend. He looked between them all. "I could care less about any of you." He looked down to his sister and they touched fists again. "And Asa, I'm here for her too."

"Awe, broseph, I'm here for you too."

…

Azrael had pushed his bed up against the wall and found himself a comfortable position, laying on his back with his legs stretched up against the wall behind him, tossing the ball he'd stolen from Anubis up over his head and caught it lazily as it came back down. His hounds lay on the floor in front of him, watching the ball rise and fall, heads bobbing up and down.

A knock to his door interrupts the companionable silence that has fallen between him and his hounds, and without his permission, the door opens to allow his older brothers entrance. The two brothers he had once been closest to, they step in silently, the oldest one shutting the door behind him. He catches the ball and stares up at them.

They try for a smile. "May we sit down?"

"I'd say _'no'_." The younger archangel glared at them both. "But I get the feeling my actual opinion means very little to you." He waved to his bed. "So, do whatever you want. I can't stop you."

They both sigh deeply, nodding at his anger, and step forward to sit on either side of their younger brother. Azrael ignores them, tossing the ball up once more, watching as it came down, and catching it before starting all over again. It's the only entertainment he has in this gloomy dreaded prison.

"Azrael, I cannot begin to imagine the pain you must be in."

He glares at his oldest brother, taking a pause before he can toss the ball back up. "Then don't."

Michael continued on as though he had not been interrupted. "Being so far away from your family." The younger angel snarls lowly, like one of his hounds did when in a foul mood and throws the ball at his oldest brother. Michael ducks out of it's path, his head turning quickly as he watched it fly passed and bounce off the wall behind him, before turning back to look at the younger archangel in surprise. "Not by my choice, though, was it?" Azrael spits at him. "Who was the one who bound me and ordered for me to be thrown over the edge?"

His oldest brother looks down in shame. It had been him who had ordered Azrael to be bound, his wings snapped, and thrown over the edge of their home. He had been the one to bring about his Fall from Heaven, and he hadn't looked back for him when he'd disappeared from the dimension that their home lived in. He'd disowned him in every way there was to disown someone.

"I am ashamed on how I treated you."

"Good." He regretted throwing the ball at his brother. Now he had to actually pay attention to what they were saying. "You should be."

"Azrael," his other brother caught his hand when it made to drop down to the bed. "Please, we are trying."

He yanked his hand free from his grasp. "Well, good luck then, I am not so easily defeated as Asariel is." He looked between them both. "I have _every _reason to hate you all."

His words rang true though, and that was the most sorrowful part, Asariel had left her home on her own free will, Azrael had not had that privilege, his leaving was forced upon him.

Michael and Raphael were at a loss on what to say. What did one say when they had been the ones to banish from their home.

"I do not know how to express my apologies for what I had done to you, Azrael, if I could put it into words, I would do so in a heartbeat." But Michael would most certainly do everything in his power to find a way. Azrael stared at him for a long time, and he stared back, neither of them uttering a word. "Azrael, I should have stood by you, I should have listened to you when you came to me expressing your innocence, and I did not." He turned to look at his other brother. "I failed you." The Archangel of death stared at him.

Michael shared a glance with the Healer. "We found out what had happened months after your Fall."

"If you found out what happened," he spoke in a deceptively calm tone. "Then why did it take you over three thousand years to come for me?"

"We forgot."

There was another part of their shared shame. They had found and punished those responsible for the crimes their younger brother had been accused of, and yet, they hadn't found the time to come for him. They truly had failed their youngest brother.

"You _forgot_?" Azrael snorted a self-depreciating snort. "For some _unknown _reason, that doesn't come as a surprise to me."

"Az," his oldest brother looks down to him. "I know you most certainly have no desire to, but, after all of this is over, if you wanted to come home, you can come home."

His hounds sniffed at the invitation, much more intelligent then most gave them credit for, they missed their home. They missed their masters brother. The one that gave them the best belly rubs. Azrael glanced down at them, he would do anything for his hounds, just as he knew they would return the favor in kind.

"I'd have to think about it."

They shared a nod. "That's to be expected."

They both smiled down at him, the tension in the air between them slowly, ever so slowly, beginning to lift. "You've grown since we've last seen you." Michael poked his upper arm. "Look at the muscles you've gained."

"What can I say, I lift a bit, gotta stay in shape and all that."

He looked over to the other when the Healer stroked his fingers over his left upper arm. "When we last saw you, you had been so scrawny, a scrawny little thing."

"Well, excuse me for growing some in these last three thousand years."

Azrael tugged at his hand when the Healer managed to capture it, the fingers of his free hand reaching forward to squeeze at his upper arm. "You've filled out. I wonder what your strength capacity is." He tilted his head at his brothers comment. "What?" and turned to look over when he felt Michael's fingers curl around his other wrist, reaching up with his own free hand to squeeze at his upper arm himself. "You may be strong, but you could never hope to be stronger than us."

The archangel of death tilted his head. "What's that supposed to mean?" And looked between them both. "I could so outmatch you if I really wanted to."

"Are you sure?" Michael exchanged a glance with Raphael. "Because, I don't think you could."

"I think you'd be surprised."

"Brother," they both looked to the Healer, but he only had eyes for the older of the two, and he smiled slightly. "Perhaps we should test this assumption."

"Indeed, we should." The oldest archangel nodded in affirmation, and they both pulled his arms up at the same time, Azrael's eyes widened as it dawned on him. "No!"

They both dig in at the same time; one into his under arm, and the other spidering up his side. Azrael shrieks, despite himself, and struggles to pull his arms free from their hold, squirming between them. He braces his feet against the wall and pushes as had as he can. Michael shakes his head once, and reaches back to squeeze at his knee, until he pulls his legs down.

"Nononono! Stohohop!"

They both pull back, their hands hovering over him, and he looks between them both, panting for a breath.

"If you can pull free, surpass our strength, we'll stop." Raphael smiles down at him, Michael chuckles from his side, and he looks between them both. "Go ahead, try and free yourself, see if you're stronger." He stares at him, as though he had finally lost himself, and they both begin to wiggle their fingers slowly for encouragement. Their baby brother's eyes widen in surprise, giggling already in anticipation, as he tugged relentlessly on his arms. He giggles harder when their hands slowly begin to lower, his struggles ceasing, as he watches between them in anticipation.

He shrieks in laughter, brightening away the remaining tension that resided between them in their brother's room, throwing his head back as ten fingers dig into his underarms, five on each side, and arches his back in ticklish reaction.

The hounds jump up, like any hound would, and begin barking at them for tormenting their master. Hopping around and yapping, wanting to join in on the excitement. Nero jumped up on Michael's legs, extending out as much as he could, and attacked his face with licks. Dante nipped at Raphael's pant legs, tugging on them excitedly, jerking his foot out from under him, growling in a playful manner.

"Call your hounds off, baby brother."

Azrael shook his head, breaking in between his laughter to call out a quick command. "Get them!"

His hounds take their command seriously, Nero jumping up on Michael, forcing him back, his grip releasing in order to catch himself as the hound bodily tackled him down against the bed. Dante snagged Raphael's pants leg firmer and tugged, bouncing backwards as hounds do when playing with tugging toys, pulling the Healer off the edge of the bed.

Freed from their torture, Azrael curled around himself, residual giggles escaping him.

"I hahahahate you guhuhuys."

"We know."


	5. Chapter 5

"Okay, so we've got two down," Sam Winchester looked over to the two youngest archangels, passing a notebook they'd stolen between them as they wrote notes to each other within it, clearly not caring enough about their conversation as to listen to it. They sat on their own at the end of the table, Azrael's hounds didn't let anyone too close, not even the older archangels. "Who's the third?"

He looked over to him when Lucifer scrubbed a hand over his face, breathing a deep sorrowful sigh, leaning forward against the table. "Sandolphon."

"Five bucks says Luci's gonna be the one to go get him."

They all turned to watch Asariel and Azrael converse loudly, clearly wanting them to listen in, and the older archangels sighed.

"Ten says he punches him."

Asariel stuck her hand out. "I'll take that bet."

…

Finding him hadn't been a problem for them, deciding who would go after him hadn't been a problem for them, it was dealing with the anger that boiled under the typically joyful angels skin that became the problem. And getting him to look at you long enough to get a sentence out before he turned away again, physical limitations became a problem as well, with his mood in the way it was he was more likely to turn away from you before you could truly sign out anything to him.

They found him in an old music shop, not many people ventured in, mostly old vinyl's and CD's, always something for the true music lover.

He recognized his younger brother upon first sight, head bowed over a box labeled _'H-M' _as his fingers sifted through the used records for whatever his mind desired to hear that day, pausing every so often to lift on up and read the track listing on the back, nodding to himself as he thought over the lyrics that could possibly have been made, and set it aside in the small pile he was collecting for himself.

The archangel in disguise didn't look like much, more calm in appearance then his brother and sister had been, but then Sandolphon had always been the quiet type. A simple pair of jeans hugging his hips, a white polo under a velvet purple vest that hung unbuttoned from his shoulders, his curls still as wild as ever. He was the very picture of a young Adonis, wild blonde curls, bright blue eyes, slightly pale in color. And he had been all his. His to raise, his to guide, and his to abandon.

They had told him about what had happened to his young Sandolphon upon his fall.

He nodded to the teenager behind the desk in greeting, she raised her chin in return as her eyes averted back to the comic book she was reading through. Teenagers.

Deciding it was best to try things slow at first, he came up beside him, without uttering a word, and sifted through the records in the box labeled _'A-H' _acting as though he was there for the classic music and not the one standing next to him. He was paid no mind though, either being ignored or unnoticed, as the teenager continued to silently sift through the vinyl's in front of him.

He tried for words then. Smiling as he pulled an old K.I.S.S. record from his box, clearly out of place in the sorting. He doubted the teenager behind the counter righted things when they were put out of order. It would be much too much a task for them to complete at their occupation.

"Can you imagine if we sang these in the Choir?"

The boy's head snapped around at his voice, staring at him with wide pale blue eyes for a moment, before his surprise was cut off with an angry glare and he turned away from him. Picking his pile of records up in his hands, he moved to another table, Sandolphon was not one for confrontation, but he was very talented at ignoring people.

He followed though.

Sandolphon set his things down and spun on him, his fingers moving a mile a minute, American Sign Language. Made sense.

_'What do you want, Lucifer.'_

"Can't I just want to see my dear little Sandy, again?"

He got a dull look in return. _'You wouldn't have to come sneak up on me if you hadn't abandoned me.'_

Lucifer nods, dropping his chin slightly as he reaches back to scratch at the back of his neck lightly, his Sandy was never one to beat around the bush. "I know I messed up, I was trying to pro—"

_'Save it!' _He looked up as his brother signed frantically, clearly irritated, his hands shook lightly in his silent anger. _'I've heard it all! I just wasn't good enough for you to stay, was I?'_

The Morningstar shakes his head slightly. "Sandy, no, I did it for you!"

He takes a step forward, shoving him harshly in the chest, forcing him back a step. _'Don't pin that all on me. You were jealous. You couldn't stand that there was something more interesting then you. You thought of no one but yourself.' _He gathers his things back up, tucking them under his arm, so that he may maintain the use of his hands. _'Leave me alone, Lucifer. I have nothing to say to you. I don't need you anymore._' The young angel of music glared up at him. _'I'm grown now. No thanks to you.'_

He walks away, stepping passed him, their shoulders bumping softly as he did. A shoulder check. And he's left staring down at the wooden floor of the Music Shop as his brother turns his collection over to the clerk behind the counter, her gum snaps, and the old cash register dings, the bells above the door jingle as its pulled open as someone departs. Lucifer shakes his head slightly, knowing that the heartbreak he feels is called for, turning to follow after him.

The bell rings again.

He follows his brother down the sidewalk, probably looking like a creeper stalking some innocent looking teenager, if only these mindless humans knew. It made him snort. Sandolphon looked over his shoulder at his snort, his shoulders tensing, and he spun around, the bag on his wrist swinging at the motion. _'Stop following me!'_

"I would. I know you want nothing to do with me—"

_'Damn straight.'_

"But Aunt is free, She's going to devour the world, we need your help."

Sandolphon shook his head. _'I don't see how that's my problem. Let Her. I don't care.'_

Lucifer tilts his head. "Sandy, you don't mean that, you hate silence. There'd be nothing but in Her World."

_'I'd learn to live with it.'_

"Sandy, think of all the innocent people you'd be dooming."

He waves a hand at the older archangel. _'Who are you to lecture me on the innocence of people. You self-righteous self-absorbed self-fish bastard.'_

"Azrael and Asariel want to see you."

His old charge clearly had no desire to see him nor their other brothers, but as far as he knew, there was no bad blood between him and the other two. They seemed to have kept in contact even after all this time. They had always been rather close, being created, born some might say, at the same moment, they had been nearly inseparable to some degree. Oh, the trouble this trio had caused, they been more trouble then they were worth sometimes. Not that they would have traded them for the world, he flinched, until _he _had.

"You wouldn't leave them all alone, would you?"

Sandolphon glares at him, there's so much heat and malice in that glare, but he shakes his head. They'd been apart for so long. _'I will come to see them._' He cuts his hand through the air. _'That's it.'_

Well, he'd been sent to bring him to the Bunker, technically he'd succeeded.

…

"Sandy!"

Asariel had him in a hug the moment he appeared, arms curled around his neck, body pressed to his. He smiled, curling his arms around her lower back, resting his head against hers. Azrael held up a fist. "Hey dude."

He bumped their fists together.

His sister pulls away, smiling to him in greeting, he would always come for them. Only them. Everyone else could fuck off.

"Whatcha get, Sandy?"

_'Queen and Journey.'_

"What," they turned to look at the hunter, he didn't know if it was the older one or not, he just knew that he automatically didn't like him. He seemed like an asshole. "He's deaf? There's such thing as a deaf angel?"

His brother hit him lightly. "Don't be rude."

Asariel and Azrael glared at him from over their brother's shoulders, Sandolphon ignored him, people often scoffed at his disability, he was more in tune with the records he'd found, reading over the track lists again.

"He can hear just fine, asshole."

The older archangels watched on, though they wanted to step up and greet their younger brother, Sandolphon was one to lash out when you touched him, and he didn't want to be touched.

"Then what's with the," he waved his fingers around.

The angel of music's shoulders grew tense, he wouldn't sit there and listen to someone make fun of his disability, it was something serious, something he lived with every day.

Asarial curled around his left arm. "He can't _talk, _you big dick."

The taller hunter tilted his head. "But, Sandolphon…He's the angel of music."

"Right." Azrael stepped up to his right. "So, you can _imagine _how _hard_ it must be, can't you?"

The other hunter snorted. "The angel of singing _can't _sing!" Turning to the taller one. "Sammy, that's too great!"

Having enough of the insults, Sandolphon glared at him over his shoulder, raised his right hand, and snapped his fingers. The hunter made to crack at his disability again, and looked confused at the lack of sound that came from his mouth, lips moving as he tried to say something and nothing came out but the silence. 'Sammy' stepped forward worriedly. "Dean. _Dean?_" He tried yelling something but not a sound came forth. The taller hunter turned to the older archangels. "What did he do?"

Gabriel shrugged. "It appears he took his voice." Glaring at the muted hunter. "Serves him right. He was being insensitive."

When it appears, they're going to be of no help, the hunter turns back to the archangel in question. "Fix him! Give him back his voice!"

Sandolphon jerks his hands. _'Make me, human.'_

He steps forward, as though attempting to be intimidating, and Sandolphon turns around, tucking his records back into the plastic back, and Asariel lets go of his left arm to curl around his right. Azrael steps up behind his shoulder. The three of them together are a force to be reckoned with.

"Do something, hunter, we dare you to."

They couldn't help but be a bit protective of their mute brother, Sandolphon couldn't express himself with words, he had to rely on his hands and his facial expressions and his features to portray his emotions.

And, he was the youngest in their trio, they'd decided long ago. Even though they were created at the same time. They agreed that Sandy was the youngest, he had that vibe, and they were good older siblings to their third piece, the one that made them whole.

"Sandolphon." They turn to look at their third born older brother. "Set him right again."

His pale blue eyes stare at the electrifying blue of the Healer's, and he barely nods, raising his left hand once more to snap his fingers.

"Good. Now," he opens his arms for him. "Come greet me properly."

Sandolphon and the Healer had formed a close relationship over the decades they'd been together, he had protected him from those that wished to use his control over the senses to their own will, it had put him and the Viceroy at odds for some time, thus what had caused them to forget about Azrael. He had been the one to teach him the different types of sign language there was to be used, since their creation, it had been humorous to watch the first human 'create' the languages.

Asariel and Azrael watched him step forward, looking down for a moment, to press himself into the third born's arms. Raphael curls him in a tight embrace, brushing his fingers through his wild blonde curls, smiling down at him gently in greeting.

"I was worried when you just up and disappeared in the dark of night."

_'I couldn't do it anymore.' _His hands shake slightly at the intense emotion. _'I'm sorry I worried you.' _

The older archangel captures his hands gently, pressing a kiss to both palms, shaking his head gently. "It is of no matter." Tucking his hands against his chest. "You are alright, that's all I care about."

Lucifer watches them longingly, he wishes that it was him in his younger brothers place and tries to swallow the lump that forms in his throat at the willing closeness they share. Sandolphon would lash out before he could even set a hand on his shoulder, let alone wrap him in his arms like the Healer does, and he looks away as the lump grows heavier. At least someone hadn't ruined their relationship with him.

He looks down to the plastic bag hanging from his wrist. "Show me what you've got there?" The younger archangel seems ecstatic that he can show someone the treasures he found, pulling his hands back to pull the bag free, opening it in the silence that always follows him, and pulls the records out to show off. Raphael takes them as he holds them out, nodding at the pick in artist, turning them over to see the track listings, they were not so separated from humanity that they've never heard their musical talents, they all had their own preference. "Journey, good pick little Sandy, I was always rather fond of them myself." He winks at him playfully. "My favorite was always '_Faithfully'_. What about you?"

The youth smiles. _'I like them all!'_ He tilts his head thoughtfully. _'But if I had to pick one, I'd say it was it was 'Don't stop believin'.'_

His older brother nods in appreciation. "That is a rather good one as well." He holds them back out to the youth, Sandolphon curls his findings in his arms, and he smiles down at him again. "I'm sure we can find a player around here somewhere, listen to your findings."

"Hey!" They turn to look at the hunter. "Is no one gonna say nothin' about him turning me mute!"

Asariel crosses her arms, leaning against Azreal's side, his arm hanging loosely around her shoulders. They watched the scene with fond and amused eyes, happy that their brother had found someone to watch out for him when they left, trying to ignore the guilt they felt for leaving him too. "Good job." She scoffs. "Ruining the moment."

Azrael nods in agreement over her head.

Sandolphon looks up to the Healer in question, clearly asking who was who, and the elder obliged his request for clarification. "That is Dean Winchester." He gestured to the short, fuming hunter. The one he had muted. He smiled in slight amusement at it, he didn't like him, and they'd only just met. "That is Sam Winchester." He gestured to the taller hunter. Sandolphon looked him over slightly. He didn't see much. "Dean is the elder, Sam the younger." He nodded in understanding. "And, of course, you know Castiel." He flipped him off. He'd heard about him killing Raph, who was trying his hardest to hold everything together, trying to save their crumbling family. Who had lost so much and yet still stood up for the others.

His brother snorted, Azrael nodded in approval. "Same."

"Big mood." Asariel nodded with him.

They turned as one to glare at the hunter who wanted their brother to face repercussions for his actions. "You deserved it, you insensitive asshole!" Asariel sneered at him with clear disdain. "Now you know what he feels like on a regular!"

Azrael nodded in agreement. "You had it coming, you bitch, making fun of him for something he can't control." He tilted his head. "We don't make fun of your daddy issues and unsightly extreme codependency with Sammy." He tilted his head back. "Or your anger issues. Sociopathic tendencies. Severe mood swings. The fact that you enjoyed killing all those people with the First Blade." Their eyes meet and he winks slightly. "That's right, I know all about it, you homicidal maniac. Death is my forte. Who do you think reaped all their souls?" He smiled, more so a quirk of his lips. "Or you're hunting down Amy Pond and threatening to kill her son." Sam turned to his brother with wide eyes. "Oh, my _Dad_. You never told your own brother that you _killed_ his childhood friend?"

"Dean, tell me you didn't."

He inhaled deeply when his brother couldn't turn to face him. The older hunter threw his hands up. "She was a _monster_, Sammy! It's what we do! We kill monsters!"

"But she hadn't done anything, had she?" Azrael leaned forward, instigating them, wanting to see the two of them get into a brawl. Asariel giggled lightly at his side and Sandolphon gave a silent snort. "You killed an innocent woman in front of her son. And you enjoyed it."

"Dean."

"I _had _to, Sammy!" He finally turns to face him. "People were dyin'!"

"But not by her hand, were they?"

Dean Winchester turns to glare at the Archangel of Death. "Would you _shut you damn mouth_!"

Azrael shrugs. "Why should I?" laughing slightly in the face of his anger. "Whatcha gonna do to me, hunter?" He leans forward, amusement playing in his voice. "Are you gonna kill the Archangel of _death_?" He shakes his head and looks down to his sister, they share an amused glance. "Good luck with that, you homicidal maniac you."

Sam Winchester stormed off in silence, his brother trailing behind him, their seraph pet giving him a hard stare as he follows after his charges.

Azrael and Asariel snicker together. Sandolphon tries but the Healer tightens his arms around him, and when he looks up in question, his elder shakes his head.

Michael heaves a sigh, pinching at the bridge of his nose. "Azrael….Was that really necessary?"

The archangel of death shrugs. "It was funny."

"They're our allies."

"No, they're your allies, I'm just here for the food." He looks between his brother and sister. "And Sandy and Asa, of course."

Sandolphon gives him a thumbs up. Signing quickly. _'I'm here for you too!'_

"Awe, Sandy, I love you too."

"I missed you so much, Sandy!"


End file.
